Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone (Ernest Cunningham, #1)

by Benjamin Stevenson

was easier to tell where my dad had been than to see where he was. The empty armchair in the living room. The plate in the oven. Stubble in the bathroom sink. Three empty holsters in a six-pack in the fridge. My father was footprints, residue.

I hope, when I go, I get the chance to rage against my death.